Stay With Me
by Flamelyte
Summary: Misao is bitter about failing her Oniwabanshuu. One is dead, and the rest are injured. Aoshi, despite being injured, still wants to see her.


_**Stay With Me**_

She slammed her fist against the wooden board harshly, and took satisfaction as the wood splintered. It didn't matter to her that it also caused her right fist to bleed; it didn't matter when her left fist began bleeding next. The small injuries were nothing compared to what had happened.

And it was all her goddamned fault. If she wasn't a wretch, if she wasn't weak, if she had more experience, if she took things more seriously…then this disaster of a situation would not have happened. If she were a true leader, if she were a better fighter, if she hadn't been so carefree, it wouldn't have happened. He wouldn't be dead. He wouldn't be injured. She wouldn't by limping and wrapped in bandaged. She wouldn't be tending to them. An old man would not be so stressed to the point of nearing a heart attack.

One, two, right, left. This was the beat and pattern her fists beat into the wood with until it splintered completely and broke.

If she, Makimachi Misao, had been a better leader…had been respected as Aoshi and her father had been, and had been as capable as they had….

Kuro wouldn't be dead now. Shiro wouldn't be lying on the floor, injured. Okon wouldn't be limping around the Aoiya wrapped in bandages. Omasu wouldn't be tending to them. Okina would not actually be constantly stressed, a state far too precarious for a man his age, no matter how strong.

And Aoshi, her dear Aoshi-sama, would not be in his room. He would be meditating in the temple. But he instead was confined to his room under the doctor's orders, as he had to recover from his injuries…

And here she had stayed when they went on that mission, them all saying it was far too dangerous for her. And they were right. A scrawny little kunai-throwing ninja girl would only get in the way…If she was a good Okashira, she would be skilled enough to have led them there herself. She would be the strongest, except for Aoshi, who it was impossible to compare with.

It was all of their faults, in a way. They tried to make her a lady. They did not train her properly. If she had tried to be more of a lady, they might have agreed to train her instead of sighing in exasperation at her childish temper tantrums.

She was Okashira. It. Was. All. Her. Fucking. Fault!

She whipped out her kunai and flung them at the wall, and they all landed in a neat row. Now with her left she pulled them out, and let another set fly. The landed in a neat row below the four she had just thrown. She reached for more, but found her hands bloodied and hurting. She also had no kunai left, as she had brought no other spares with her.

There was a masochistic look in her eye as she saw blood on the kunai. It served her right. Here she was, unscathed, while one of her own was dead and the others had also come so close to it…

Death. It was such a nasty part of life. Especially if you died young.

She picked up bandages from the table near the door and began wrapping her fists. She made sure they were thick enough to hide the blood, and tight enough to stop the blood from seeping out from her wounds. But they were also thin enough so that she could move her hands and would not cut off her circulation.

Her training would have continued despite these injuries…except she had promised to visit Aoshi now. She felt drained, and didn't have the energy to clean herself up. So, dressed in long black pants, a light blue training top, and hair back in a braid that had been carelessly put together, she left the training room and headed back for the Aoiya.

Though she walked far slower than normal, her feet dragging uncharacteristically and her head hung, gaze distracted, the journey seemed far too short to Misao. She entered through the private back entrance, away from any of the common customers that came to the Aoiya; normally they would have been shorthanded without Okon and herself. However, Omasu and Okina had brought in two temporary waitresses, both people who had once been Oniwaban themselves, so very long ago.

After the massacre on the last mission, they had thankfully been glad to come and help out. Rumors of that battle had spread quickly, as it directly involved the government and citizens of Kyoto. They had known they might be needed. And she was thankful for that.

Misao climbed the steps, keeping careful to keep her footsteps silent. It was part of her training; part of her want to prove she could actually do it, and mostly due to the fact that she did not want to disturb anyone. Thankfully, no rooms but her own were passed on the way to Aoshi's. Her office came first on the right, her room was on the left, and across from her own was Aoshi's quarters.

It was at this door she paused outside of. Hesitantly, she knocked lightly on the wooden shoji frame to let him know she was coming in, though he had probably sensed her anyway if he was awake. Hearing no response, but not having expected one, she slid open the door and stepped into the room.

Aoshi lay on his futon on the ground, seemingly asleep. His bangs fell gently over closed eyes, and a thicker blanket was on top of him due to the somewhat chilly weather autumn was beginning to bring.

But Misao knew he was not asleep.

She shut the door closed behind her quietly, before coming over and kneeling next to his still form. "…Aoshi-sama." She breathed quietly, nervously. She could not imagine why he had wanted her to be here, but she knew that she had no right to deny him her presence now.

He did not stir. But she knew he was definitely awake.

"Aoshi-sama." She stated again, and reached up to gently brush her hand across his forehead. His bangs tickled her hand somewhat, but she paid the sensation no mind. Feeling that his forehead was only slightly warmer than average on her right fingers (which had not needed bandages), she figured it was safe to say that the fever he'd caught due to his weakened body was at least beginning to break.

She closed her eyes and let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. It was strange. At one point she would have been embarrassed to be this close to him; her face would have been red and she would've acted flustered and shy. But now, three years after his return from Shishio, and three years of growing to know and love him more, had made such childish actions vanish. Being near him was second nature, and him being there was like the air that she breathed.

Misao could not imagine him not being there. She did not want to imagine it.

Reopening her eyes, she found him watching her. She offered him a small smile, though she knew it did not reach her eyes, and spoke softly. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

Her offered her no response, just gave her a lazy look and blinked.

She held back a sigh, deciding to be patient. "…Is there something…that you wanted?"

"Hm…" The sound was soft and barely audible, and after another period of continued silence, she was beginning to think she had imagined it. Deciding to take his silence as a way for him to say 'leave Misao,' she placed her hand on the ground to help her rise from her kneeling position.

She was startled to find that his hand came to rest on hers, and bright, clear blue eyes gazed in wonder into his masked blue green. He did not hesitate to say one word, but he obviously had no intention of speaking much. "Stay."

After a minute, his eyes slipped shut again, and Misao allowed her body to relax somewhat. She was afraid that his hand pressing atop hers would allow blood to seep through her bandages, though she hoped to god it wouldn't. Either way, after ten minutes, Misao grew bored of merely sitting there. No amount of maturity or her age would probably ever stop her from wanting to constantly be doing something, even if she got to remain next to her Aoshi-sama.

"I have to go…There are some things I need to do." She attempted to pull her hand away from under his, but his hand shot out to grab her wrist.

His words were soft and dull, and there was some emotion in them, but what that emotion was she hadn't a clue. "…you seem to have plenty of time today if you did that to your hands."

Irritation. That's what it was. There was also a trace of a reprimand in his words. "You're concern in appreciated, but not necessary." She kept her voice carefully neutral, not wanting to hear those words from him. Would Hannya, Shikijou, Beshimi and Hyotoko ever have spoken to Aoshi in such a way? No. But because she was Misao, everyone seemed to think that they could do so, despite her position as their Okashira.

Something flashed through his eyes, but she did not have time to decipher it. He sat up quickly and then pulled her roughly to him, her body pressed closely to his, and her head was forced to rest on his shoulder. It annoyed her that she could no longer read his face, because it had been the only shot she had at understanding his actions. And the action of him hugging her had definitely been unexpected. For once in her life, it was also an unwelcomed action.

"Aoshi-sama…?"

"It is necessary, Misao."

She froze completely in his arms and her eyes widened. She felt his hand come up to play lightly with her hair. "I…I don't understand…" She spoke slowly and carefully, completely unsure of where this was going.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" And she knew immediately at those words he was referring to Kuro's death and the disaster of the mission. It had been against a former imperialist solider who had gone rogue, joined up with an ex-assassin who was rumored to have once been Shinsengumi, and decided to go on a killing spree. She struggled in his arms somewhat violently, and she felt Aoshi tense. But he still held her all the same.

Reopening her blue eyes, they flashed angrily, and then took note of the fact that his chest was wrapped in bandages much like what covered her own hands. Some more minor burns from the explosion were visible on the skin that was not covered. Misao stopped her struggle, not wanting to cause him pain. Instead, she tried to wriggle her arm free from his grasp, but he wouldn't let go.

He was thinking that she would run from him.

She shook her head as much as she could. "…No…I'm not running…." Seeming to trust her words, he loosened his hold on her just enough so she could get her right arm out. Hesitantly, she reached out and lightly traced the burns she found on his chest with her fingers, and felt him shudder. "…Hurt?" She questioned quietly.

He shook his head. "Don't stop."

Misao blinked, eyes narrowing in confusion at this. But then she realized something. Her hands must be cold, or at least cool enough to feel good on the burns. It was enough to make her smile a little, and she began running her fingers lightly over the charred skin. She was careful to keep her touch light enough so that she wouldn't hurt him, but making sure there was enough pressure so that it wouldn't tickle him. Honestly, she wasn't sure if he was ticklish, but she had no desire to make him uncomfortable either way.

Her fingers trailed to his neck, and there she noticed that hidden by his hair was a thin but somewhat deep cut. It obviously had somehow been missed when his injuries had been treated. Touching it lightly, she was able to feel him tense because of their closeness.

"That needs taken care of." She said quietly, and pulled back against his arms. This time he let go of her. She blinked at him. "Will you let me?"

He gave her a tired look, and then nodded just slightly. But it was enough for Misao to know she had permission. Moving only for a moment to gather medical supplies that had been put over to the side, she came back over to kneel behind him. She put her fingers to his head and pushed slightly, and he tilted his head down forwards for her obediently. Rinsing a cloth in water, which was a bit cold from sitting out, but not overly so, she moved some of his hair aside and began dabbing some of the dried blood away.

…He had been lucky that the cut had not been any deeper.

Some of the blood would not come off, so she had to rub slightly harder. He made a sound in his throat, and she knew it was hurting him. "Almost done…" She reassured quietly, and then blew lightly on the wound to soothe the pain. Might as well startle him a little bit, as she knew no one had ever done that when treating his wounds. And he did indeed tense, obviously startled, and this made her smile. Then she applied some ointment to her fingertips and lightly rubbed the cool, soothing substance over the cut. She wiped away the excess, and then smiled to herself. "There."

She knew he wound not say thank you. But he didn't need to, because she knew he was grateful.

"You should be resting." She stated simply, and moved the medical supplies back over to where they had been. She felt his eyes on her back, and it made her blush a bit for a reason she couldn't figure out. She hadn't blushed around him in a long time. Forcing the feeling down, she turned to blink at him curiously. "Aoshi-sama?"

"Stay with me."

She blinked. "But…why…?" The question made her feel stupid, but it was a pretty good question. The man was definitely acting off today. Yes, he always differently than most people. But him hugging her…Hm. She wondered if he'd been drugged or something?

He merely tilted his head slightly to the side, and blinked at her through dark bangs. "Stay with me." He said again.

Misao ran her hands through her bangs in irritation. "Aoshi…" She forgot the 'sama', something she had been slowly doing more and more. She gulped when he began to look irritated with her not listening to him. "Alright, alright, I'll stay with you…"

He merely kept looking at her with those eyes of his for a long while, and then turned away.

She blinked, and then realized there was something he did not want to say or ask her. Her brow furrowed in confusion, before hesitantly she came over. What did he want…? She ran through what had happened in her head so far…She came into the room, he'd practically ignored her, and then he'd held her and wouldn't let her go except for the fact that she wanted to treat his injury.

She bit her lip, and then let her body fall forward just slightly so her head rested on his shoulder. "You need to rest." The statement was soft and hesitant. His actions seemed equally as hesitant.

"…Stay with me." He said for the third time.

"I will."

"...Let me hold you."

She lifted her head from his shoulder and nodded, and spoke again, hiding her surprise at the request. Though somehow, it wasn't so suprprising to her as it might have once been. "Only if you promise me you'll sleep."

He stiffened slightly and eyed her warily, and Misao guessed he was trying to figure out if this was a way for her to try and run away from him again.

She couldn't keep a soft laugh from escaping her lips. "I won't run off…I promise."

Aoshi let out a sigh, and then lay down on his side so he was facing her. He motioned for her to come to him, and she did so obediently. She slipped under the blanket next to him, and immediately he wrapped his arms securely and protectively around her.

It occurred to her that he wasn't worried so much that she'd run…But from the uneven aura he was giving out, she could tell one thing and it bothered her greatly.

He was scared. But of what, she didn't know. Misao wracked her brain for a time when she had sensed such a thing from him, but could find none. Reaching up with her left hand this time, which was bandaged a bit more, she stroked his hair lightly. "Aoshi…" She murmured his name. She could feel him playing with her hair, and then realized he was working her hair from its braid. It was tempting to stop him, because her hair was such a hassle when it was loose, but she didn't.

"…I was afraid I'd lose you." He spoke suddenly.

"You all made quite sure I wouldn't be harmed in any battle." She retorted, and resisted a wince at how bitter her voice sounded.

"Not like that."

She tilted her head up to blink at him. "Then like what?"

She felt him shift and move so he could see her, and then took her hand lightly in his. "Like this…That you would be furious at me for not wanting you to go and not letting you go on the mission…"

"I am furious at you." She replied simply, and she realized it was the truth. "…But I understand all the same…that I'm both an annoyance and a distraction."

She scowled when this statement actually made him smile. "Aoshi…"

He merely moved to nuzzle her neck, and her breath caught at the strange action. "W-what….?"

"I couldn't lose you and your smiles…and your laughter…and the happiness you bring…" He paused for a moment. "I couldn't risk it, Misao…"

"It hurts. And I was scared I'd lose you too…" She replied, and let her hand fall to rest on the back of his head, which still rested between her shoulder and neck. "But Aoshi, I can't go on feeling useless."

"I can't risk you leaving…"

"…But you can risk you're Okashira going insane with guilt and grief and the overwhelming sense of uselessness?" She snapped. "Aoshi…" She growled. "I won't be some little trophy!"

"You aren't one…!" He replied sharply, his voice hoarse. His grip tightened around her waist, and she knew she couldn't move if she tried. Either way, she didn't dare to do so. "…You aren't. I swear, Misao…At least, not like that." His voice was strained. He was also telling the truth.

Misao knew he was. She had learned to read him over these three years and the time she had spent with him.

She let out a sigh. "Then you'll teach me to fight." She sensed his hesitation, but continued. "You will teach me to fight, Aoshi. Or else I will step down as Okashira. I will train myself and leave again if I have to." His fingers dug into her back as his grip tightened, but she ignored it despite the slight pain. Her voice became more gentle as she realized his fear of losing her, and the reality of her threat. She did not make empty ones. "…All you have to do is teach me. I won't go on any mission that's too dangerous…" She stroked his head. "But I can't do nothing. It's not a possibility."

He didn't respond, but she hadn't expected him too.

What she also didn't expect was to feel her neck wet. Her eyes widened. He was crying? Aoshi Shinomori…crying? Oh dear lord. She knew he was speaking his mind now, and drugged or not, no amount of medicine could have made him cry unless he really wanted to.

…It was true. He was crying. It was also true that she didn't know how to handle that, and in the back of her mind she wished it was drugs from the doctor that were making him act so oddly.

She'd let him, but it was odd to be in the position they were in because of they way he held her. She murmured softly for him to loosen his grip on her, and he complied. He turned his head away, and she did not look at his face. She could understand that he did not want her to see his tears.

Happier with this new position, she snuggled into his chest, pressing as close to him as she could. It was hardly appropriate, the two of them together like this, but it didn't matter. His arms wrapped around her again, and he buried his head in her hair. He'd somehow finished freeing her hair from its braid along the way.

"Shhh….I'm right here, Aoshi. I'm right here." It was an odd thing to say, but she knew in her heart that he needed the reassurance after everything he had been through within the last week, and also because of the other unspeakable horrors that had occurred in his life.

Truly innapropriate. A girl, of proper age to marry, and him a man that was nearly thirty years old. They weren't married, and she was no longer a child. But both had seen too much and needed the other too much to give a damn, really. Besides, who would see?

Three years since he returned from Shishio. Probably around eleven since he'd left her so many years ago. Three and a half years since their deaths. One year since the last time she'd visited their graves. Two years since the first time Aoshi took her to them.

His grip became more relaxed and gentle as he cradled her form, much smaller than his own, against him.

She smiled. "…Go to sleep." She commanded.

Her murmured something she couldn't understand, but it became clear as he bent his head down. "I love you, Okashira…."

She could've sworn her heart stopped right then. Blue eyes turned to look at him, and she saw the dried tears on his face. She reached up and brushed them away as best she could. "Aoshi…I…"

"Promise me something."

Still a bit stunned, she just nodded.

"Don't be angry with what I'm about to do."

"Okay…but what are you-" Her words were cut off abruptly by a sweet kiss. She froze in his arms in complete shock, and wondered if this was all a dream. But it wasn't. So finally, she kissed him back. He let out a groan, and it made her smile against his lips.

He pushed her down so she was under him and then crushed his lips to hers again, this time much more forceful. Her arms went around his back and rested there, pulling him closer until he was practically crushing her against the futon, and therefore the floor. His lips then moved to her throat, where he gently teased the skin with gentle bites and kisses, though not enough to bruise.

She gasped at this action, and then shifted slightly under him, and put her fingers to his lips as she regained her senses. "Stop."

His eyes widened slightly, and she didn't have a clue about what might be running through his mind. He attempted to sit up to move away from her. She stopped him by rolling over and moving so he was now under her. He obviously could toss her aside easily had he wanted to get away, but knew he wouldn't. She gave him a smile, and shook her head, still slightly breathless. "Not now."

"Misao…"

She pressed her fingers to his lips again, and gently forced him from sitting up slightly to lie flat on his back on the futon. "You need to rest, Aoshi…" Her hands traced some of the old scars on his chest, and she felt him shudder. Definitely not wanting him to do that, she stopped. "…because you don't need anymore scars." She pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead, and moved so she was laying half on top of him. It wasn't worth risking reopening his wounds because she put too much weight on him, however light she was.

"…My Misao…." He then said, whispered just into her ear so his breath tickled. She could hear the exhaustion in his voice, and knew he would not stay awake much longer.

She never did say she loved him in return. Her response was to shift her head so she could listen to his steady heartbeat. It was in that position she stayed as he drifted off to sleep. And it was in that position she stayed as he slept for many hours, thinking about everything and anything, before drifting off as well during some hour of the night.

Okina came in early the next morning, and was startled to find his adopted granddaughter and Aoshi sleeping comfortably in each others arms, and peaceful looks on both of their face.

He grinned. He'd give them hell on it later. He'd also allow Aoshi to wait a little longer before his injuries were checked again…His grin turned lecherous as he considered making Misao check Aoshi's wounds and rebandage them…oh, he could imagine it now... Cackling, he shut the door, and headed back downstairs.

And in a half awake state, Misao grimaced. Lecherous old man…


End file.
